


The Bonnie to My Clyde

by merae2888



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Partnership, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae2888/pseuds/merae2888
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles tricks Lydia into breaking into the Administration Office with him to steal Theo's file.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bonnie to My Clyde

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who?”

The hallways are deserted and their voices echo too loudly in the empty space. Stiles shoots her an exasperated look. “Theo.”

“Sorry,” she singsongs. “And why is that?”

He shakes his head, bites his thumbnail. “Why is he here, now? At the beginning of senior year?”

“You don’t think it’s possible that it’s just a random coincidence?”

He levels his no-bullshit look at her. “This is Beacon Hills. Nothing is random.”

Lydia almost laughs at the little voice that lives in the back of her skull as it whispers _always listen to Stiles._ “Maybe you’re right and if you are, we should probably keep him close. Keep an eye on him.”

When did she become so paranoid? Somewhere between Allison’s death and Kate’s resurrection, probably.

“Or, we could expose him early, prove what a big, fake liar he is and kick him out of the pack before anything bad happens.” Stiles skids to a stop, his sneakers squeaking loudly against the shiny linoleum floors. He turns a rather triumphant grin on her and holds his arms out, like he’s presenting her with a grand prize. The door to the Administrative office of Beacon Hills High School is not something she would consider a prize.

“Who’s the big, fake liar now?”

“What,” he asks innocently but in the slanted moonlight, his eyes scream mischief.

“You said we were getting a mythology book from the library. This is clearly,” She points to the door’s label for emphasis, “not the library.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not far from the library.” He crouches down and pulls a small, metal file from his pocket. He inserts it into the lock and starts rotating it around, holding his ear close to the doorknob. “We’ll hit it after.”

The sight of Beach Hill’s sheriff’s son breaking into his school’s administration office has rendered her momentarily speechless. “After what exactly?” she asks just as the lock clicks open and Stiles opens the door with an exaggerated flourish.

“I’m getting Theo’s file. There’s gotta be something in there about why he left his last school.” Stiles goes straight to the file cabinet and starts fiddling with the lock in the top drawer.

“Stiles! Those files are private; hence the lock!”

“Relax! I’m not going to make a million copies and paste them up all over school.” The drawer pops open (it’s just a little creepy that Stiles is so good at picking locks) and he begins sorting through the manila folders, “you know, unless there’s something really damning in here.”

“Stiles!”

“Here it is.”

Against all her best instincts, she goes to his side and he hands her his flashlight. The light shines down on very official looking transfer papers. His long, pale fingers shuffle through the pages, he bites the side of his mouth as he skims over the typed words. Lydia tries to read the words over his shoulder but he’s hunched on the desk, blocking most of her view. Without her having to ask, he pushes the papers into her eye-line. She glances at his profile, gets caught up in the way his moles look in the soft light and the next words fall from her mouth unbidden. “Why did you ask me to come?”

“So I have someone to blame if we get caught.” There’s a sly grin he can’t quite suppress turning up his lips. She sighs and it sounds fond.

“Ah, of course. Very sneaky of you.”

He nods, so proud of his antics. “I thought so.”

“But why me?” Now he does glance up and their eyes catch and it’s probably some ridiculous part of her brain imagining the heat that shimmers between them.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“You’re like,” he licks his lips and Lydia is definitely imagining the flicker of his eyes over her mouth. “You’re like, the Bonnie to my Clyde, you know?”

“Really? But…they died.”

“You know what I mean,” he spats, snapping back to exasperated in a flash. He crouches over the file again, pushing up his shoulders in an attempt to hide his face. “My partner in crime, or whatever.”

_A perfect combination._

She’s not imagining the blush that’s claiming his cheeks. It matches her own.

“Partners in crime?” She pretends to mull it over for a second. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” There’s his real smile and Lydia answers it as naturally as blinking.

“Yeah, as long as the crimes never get more serious than breaking into the school.”

“I don’t know. Things get kind of crazy around here. We might have to fight off some evil spirits, corral some homicidal werewolves, locate some dead bodies.”

“I told you I don’t want to do that anymore,” she says with teasing affection.

“Well, too bad. You’ve got to pull your weight somehow. I can’t do all the hard stuff.”

She sniffs a laugh. Despite the joking nature, there’s something too real beneath all these words and she’s sure that they are each asking for something more than a “partner in crime.”

“I think we can handle it.” Her hand winds up on his, don’t ask her how. Stiles flips his hand, so they are palm to palm. His fingers grip hers and she feels a strange sense of grounding, like gravity upped its force when they touched.

_Emotional tether._

“We can handle anything.” Stiles puts an emphasis on the ‘we’ and Lydia thinks he says that word better than anyone else.


End file.
